Tainted Love
by counting-12x
Summary: Harry can't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. Rated MA for sex and language. / Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. These characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the publishers of the Harry Potter series. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

**A/N**: I have re-written this chapter. The story is exactly the same, I have only made minor changes to make it flow a little better.

Friday morning; it was raining. Harry could hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops against his window by the bed. He put on his glasses that sat on the bedside table to find the room empty. The clock beside him read 08:00am.

Oh no, he'd slept in!

He put on his clothes in what felt like less than ten seconds and ran downstairs to the commonroom to find the students bustling about.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up?" he asked Ron as he fixed his collar.

Ron yawned as he said, "Oh, hey mate. I was actually just about to come up."

"What's everyone still doing in here?" Harry inquired.

"It's daylight savings, but something went wrong with the clock charm," Ron answered.

"It's only 07:00am, actually," Hermione added. "We thought we'd let you sleep in instead of suffer with the rest of us. We should have left you a note - sorry, Harry."

"It's okay," Harry replied. "It was just a little bit shocking for a moment there. I've never gotten out of bed so fast."

They headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast after half-an-hour of waiting (Ron was complaining of starving to death), ready to begin their day. It passed by slowly, the rain barely easing. The sky was gloomy and grey.

_'What a miserable day,'_ Harry thought to himself.

He hoped it would stop raining by tomorrow because the students had the privilege of visiting Hogsmeade over the weekend. It wouldn't be as pleasant in the rain.

He went to sleep that night to the same pitter-patter sound that he had woken up to.

...

"Harry," came a voice, accompanied by a nudge. "Time to get up!"

Harry opened his eyes to see Ron blurrily hovering above him. "Never thought I'd see the day where _you'd_ have to wake _me_ up two days in a row," he joked.

He quickly remembered the horrid weather that had plagued him the day before and ran to the window for assurance of its departure. To Harry's delight, the rain had ceased. His eyes were treated to a wonderful, azure blue sky and gorgeous, warm sunlight that streamed in through the glass.

He smiled to himself.

"You seem quite happy today," Hermione noted during breakfast.

"I'm happy to get away from our school work," he explained. Ron and Hermione agreed.

They set out for Hogsmeade after breakfast, discussing along the way where they would visit first.

"How about the Three Broomsticks? I'm dying for a Butterbeer," cried Ron.

"Let's do that last," suggested Harry. "We can visit everywhere else first, then finish it all over with a lovely, creamy Butterbeer."

The trio visited all their favourite places - Honeydukes, Zonko's Joke Shop, and had to stop off at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop so Hermione could replace hers that had broken (Ron had snapped it in frustration during a conversation with Seamus about Slytherin winning the Slytherin/Ravenclaw Quidditch match earlier that week) - before heading over to the Three Broomsticks Inn.

"Ahh!" exclaimed Ron in relief as they entered. "Finally."

They sat at an empty table in the center of the bar and Ron eagerly ordered three Butterbeers. Harry scanned his eyes around the large room, looking for some other students to invite to their table. But most of them seemed to have made their way back to the school already.

And lucky for them - because it had just begun to rain. Again.

"Well, at least it was nice for a little while," Harry sighed as their drinks arrived. "Did either of you happen to bring an umbrella?" he asked Ron and Hermione.

They both looked at eachother and shook their heads.

"Sorry, Harry. I didn't think it would rain again..." Hermione admitted.

"We'll survive," replied Harry. He hoped Hermione would come up with some sort of _'umbrella spell'_, but to no avail.

Ron picked up his glass and took a big gulp. Harry and Hermione did the same - they were parched after walking for so long.

Harry continued to scan the room and came across Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy sitting in the corner of the Three Broomsticks. Malfoy raised his glass in a 'cheers' sort of fashion in Harry's direction to the ignorance of his company. Harry raised his eyebrows in shock, then turned away.

...

"I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon," Hermione said after 15 minutes of waiting for the saturation to ease.

"Let's just leave now, then," Harry suggested.

"And get drenched? No way," Ron complained.

"We mustn't be late. We have to be back very soon," explained Hermione. "It's now, or never."

The three looked like drowned rats by the time they got back to Hogwarts. Harry had suggested - after seeing just how heavy the rain was falling - that they take the secret passage out of Hogsmeade to avoid being caught in it. But Hermione protested. She insisted that they not break any rules while trused to leave the school.

Malfoy and his_ 'gang'_ were standing at the entrance to the castle as the trio arrived, each of the Slytherin's as dry as a bone. Harry didn't recall seeing them leave the Three Broomsticks. The four of them laughed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they walked by and entered the castle. Oddly, Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit embarrassed.

"Bunch of gits," Ron grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, us being wet is _really_ hilarious..."

Harry didn't add anything.

...

Falling asleep that night was difficult. Harry couldn't seem to close his eyes for more than a few minutes. At first, Harry thought the Butterbeer may have been responsible in some way, but dismissed it because Butterbeer had never made him feel like this before. He lay awake, thinking about (of all things) Draco Malfoy. Malfoy looking at him from across the bar, Malfoy laughing at him...

Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up on Sunday morning feeling like he had the worst sleep of his life.

He couldn't remember yesterday too well. It felt like Saturday was a really long dream, one that he couldn't recall it's details after he had been awake for more than a minute.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Hermione at breakfast. "You look tired."

"Is that a nice way of saying I look terrible?" asked Harry. Hermione didn't say anything.

"It's okay, Hermione," he said when he noticed the look on her face. "I agree with you. For some reason, I didn't sleep too well last night."

"I slept like a log," bragged Ron. "All that walking really buggered me out."

"I know, I heard you snoring," said Harry.

"I think I could hear you from the girl's dormitories!" joked Hermione. Harry couldn't help but laugh. Such a thing didn't seem entirely impossible.

...

"I'm so glad the rain has eased up," said Harry, as he, Ron, and Hermione walked through the grounds. The sun was shining brightly, and there were barely any clouds in the sky.

"It really plagued us, didn't it?" agreed Hermione.

"Certainly did," came a voice from behind them. It was Draco Malfoy. "Did you even _see_ what you looked like when you got back here? Looked like someone had dunked you into the Black Lake."

He made an impression of a gulping fish out of water. He and his friends laughed.

"Perhaps an umbrella might have done you some good," he continued.

"Perhaps an umbrella across your face might do you some good," grunted Ron.

"Let's not kid ourselves, Weasley," said Malfoy detrimentally. "I doubt you can even afford one."

Ron lunged at Malfoy, but Harry stepped in and pulled him back. "Thanks for the advice," he said to Malfoy sarcastically.

"Why did you do that for?" yelled Ron as Harry and Hermione dragged him far away from the Slytherins.

"Because you're better than that, Ron."

"And you would've gotten into trouble!" added Hermione.

"I don't care! He needs to learn when to shut his mouth," yelled Ron. He made Harry and Hermione let go. "He better sit far away from me in Potions tomorrow."

...

The next day, Ron was still bitter. He had a continous look on his face like he'd just tasted something foul. Every now and again, Harry could hear him mutter under his breath random insults directed at Malfoy, like "slimy git" and "worthless... ruddy bully."

In the afternoon, they attended their double Potions lesson with the Slytherins. Harry was dreading it. Well, he always did, because Professor Snape always gave him a hard time. But today would be even more tense because of Ron's mood.

"Don't let him get to you, Ron," was all Hermione could say to comfort him as they waited for Snape to arrive.

They sat in their usual seats, Ron sitting on the end as far away from Malfoy as possible. There was a spare seat between Harry and Malfoy.

Snape stood in front of the students looking rather dismal.

"Good afternoon, students", he said in his usual, silky voice. "Today, we will be creating a simple antidote to cure abrasions to the skin."

Snape tapped the board behind him, and the method appeared in perfect cursive. He turned to face them once more, and said with a cruel, twisted grin, "I - or should I say, you - will be testing it at this lesson's conclusion."

The students began working, each of them sharing a worried look on their face. Testing a potion on their first attempt was not something they were excited about. Ron was still so frustrated that he kept making mistakes and earning stern looks from Snape everytime he did something wrong. Hermione stepped in to help, as she knew that this antidote would become useful in the future, therefore Ron should be confident in creating it.

At the end of the lesson, Snape scanned the classroom with his black eyes, no doubt finding pleasure in their fear.

"If you drink the antidote now without prior injury, there will be no side effects. But, if you have not succeeded in preparing it properly, we will see some interesting..." he smirked before continuing. "_...Consequences._"

Ron tapped Harry on the shoulder and whispered, "I bet a galleon Seamus' blows up!"

Harry tried to stifle his laughter. He looked back to his own antidote, hoping he'd prepared it correctly and that his wouldn't blow up.

"Drink," Snape instructed. They did. Harry's tasted strangely like the Butterbeer he'd had yesterday.

Yesterday... Butterbeer... Wasn't that a dream?

He looked over his body, relieved to see no physical changes. Other students weren't as lucky. Neville's ears turned bright blue. Goyle's lips grew three times their normal size. Seamus' fingers turned purple and scaly.

"I guess I owe you a galleon", whispered Ron.

After the bell went, Snape asked Neville, Goyle, and Seamus to stay behind so he could correct their ailments (and no doubt punish them for failing) while the other students left. At dinner, Ron brought up the person that was lingering in Harry's mind.

"It's a shame Malfoy's antidote didn't backfire," he said bitterly.

"That's not a nice thing to say, Ron," blurted out Harry before he realised what he had said.

Ron choked on his dinner. Hermione dropped her fork.

"What?" they both asked in astonishment.

"I... nothing," Harry responded. "Just because you - I mean _we_ - dislike Malfoy, that doesn't mean we should wish him to fail at his studies. It has nothing to do with him being a bully."

"Right..." said Ron, slowly. "Except that's exactly what he deserves."

Hermione kept her eyes fixated on Harry. He broke their eye contact to instead focus on his food in the golden plate in front of him. But he was disinterested. All he could focus on was Malfoy. Again. Earlier in the day, when Malfoy mentioned the state he, Ron, and Hermione arrived in after Hogsmeade, Harry didn't care. But now... thinking about it made him turn pink.

...

Harry couldn't sleep properly that night. Or the night after. What was this? This obsession?

All he could think about was being near Malfoy. They'd never really had any physical contact before, except maybe during Quidditch. But Harry was craving it. Was it normal to crave something you'd never had?

It was driving him mad. Was this what a crush felt like?

He decided he would talk to Hermione about it. They were alone in the library on Wednesday night, doing their homework. Hermione's quill was scribbling away while her nose was buried in a book. Harry couldn't concentrate on the words he was meant to be reading.

He closed the book, took a deep breath, and asked, "Hermione, how do you know when you like someone?"

She looked up at him, a little taken aback. "Well, I..."

She paused. "I think if you have to ask me, Harry, then you already know the answer."

Harry was hoping for a different answer, not one that concluded his fears.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Who's what?" asked Ron, who had just sat down beside Harry.

"Harry has a crush on someone," said Hermione, as if she were a little girl.

"Really?" asked Ron, now looking much happier to be stuck in the library. "Who's the lucky girl?"

Harry felt a lump build in his throat.

"Ah, well..." he began, his voice shaky. "It's not exactly a girl. It's..."

Oh Merlin, this was a mistake.

"Draco Malfoy."

Hermione accidently drew a line across her parchment. Ron's jaw almost hit the table. They looked like they'd been _Stupefied_.

Harry felt like those last two words echoed throughout the enormous library. He instantly wanted to take it back. He didn't mean it. He didn't like Draco Malfoy. He couldn't... Could he?

"As in... You _'like'_ him?" asked Ron, awkwardly.

"I'm not sure what I mean," Harry tried to explain. "I just... I can't stop thinking about him. Is that how a normal crush feels?"

Neither Ron or Hermione said a word. Harry tried again.

"Is that how you feel, Hermione, when you like a guy?"

Hermione blushed. "I suppose," she answered, her voice barely audible.

"How could you ever like that slimy git?" cut in Ron. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I never said it did make sense," answered Harry. "Feelings don't always make sense, in the beginning."

Ron and Hermione could still barely move.

"Do I need to use _Rennervate_ on both of you?" Harry asked.

...

Ron barely spoke to Harry as they were getting ready for bed. Harry waited for the other boys to fall asleep before trying to speak to him about what had happened in the library. He really shouldn't have said anything to either Ron or Hermione.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, mate."

There was silence.

"Ron?"

"I heard you," Ron replied.

"And?" asked Harry.

Ron sighed. "If it were anyone else, Harry, anyone in the world, I'd support you. Hell, even if it were a goblin I'd support you. But Malfoy?" He paused after saying Malfoy's name, as if it was too hard to say out loud. "I just can't."

"Can't?" questioned Harry.

"I can't accept such a thing. He's a git, a horrible person, an _enemy_."

"Ron-"

"He's not good enough for you." Harry took a sharp breath at that comment.

"Night," Ron grumbled as he pulled his blankets over himself and rested his head on his pillow.

Neither of them spoke a word after that, and Harry found it difficult to sleep, once again.


	3. Chapter 3

The following days were awkward. Harry and Ron could barely look at eachother, while Hermione was stuck in the middle, constantly trying to initiate conversations that terminated quite quickly.

They had their Potions class again on Friday. Harry was nervous to see Draco. Whenever Draco crossed Harry's mind, which was becoming frequent, he felt his stomach fill with butterflies. He tried to stop thinking about Draco to avoid the discomfort, but also because he was afraid other people (especially Ron) would somehow know. No need for _Legilimency_.

Snape was looking particularly devilish Friday morning. Harry could only attempt to let his imagination explore the possible thoughts that lurked behind those deep, black eyes, and probably never come close. Snape stared at the students for what seemed like forever; none of them moved a muscle.

"It seems that someone has been sneaking into my private store cupboard," he finally said.

He glanced around the room, his eye's meeting Harry's. Harry didn't doubt for a moment that Snape suspected him of stealing from the store cupboard. It was the only one of Snape's thoughts he could be sure of. This wasn't the first time.

"Some important - and possibly dangerous - ingredients have gone missing. Ashwinder products... Moonstone... among _other_ things."

He stepped foward. A few students gasped.

"Whomever has been stealing from me - and ultimately, the school - will be severly punished. Don't think for a moment that you'll get away with this."

...

"Who would dare steal from Snape?" Ron asked as they left the dungeons. "Must be a crazy bugger to do that."

"Well, we've done it before," answered Harry, before suddenly realising he had spoken to Ron directly for the first time in days. They turned their heads away from eachother. This had become Hermione's cue.

"_Well,_" she said, knowingly. "He thought it was you, Harry, in fourth year. He probably assumes it was you again."

"Great," he replied, sarcastically. "That's comforting."

"What would anyone want with moonstone, anyway?" asked Hermione. "It can be useful, but..."

Harry noticed a look on Hermione's face that he knew all too well.

"I think I'll be off to the library to inquire," she said. She turned to Harry. "Oh, Harry! You have something - a bug - in your hair. Here, let me..."

She leaned over and delicately removed the bug from his hair.

"There," she said. A frown came across her face. "Harry, are you wearing cologne? Or perhaps you just brushed your teeth. You smell like _peppermint_... Anyway, I'm off to the library."

...

Before dinner that night, Harry excused himself from the commonroom where he, Ron, and Hermione had been sitting in silence.

"I'll meet you at dinner," he called out to them as he left.

Harry felt like something else had taken over him as he headed down to the dungeons of the castle, and found himself standing outside the door to Slytherin's commonroom. What exactly was he planning to do? Knock on the door and politely ask if Draco was there? The only way in was a password...

"Potter?" asked an approaching voice.

"Hi, Draco," replied Harry as he turned to face Draco who had just entered from the hallway.

"Are we on a first name basis?" asked Draco.

Harry looked at his shoes. "I wanted to speak with you."

"_'Wanted'_? Do you still want to?"

Harry nodded. Draco looked as if he could smell something unpleasant.

"Fine. Wait here - behind that pillar," he instructed as he entered the commonroom and slammed the door.

Harry waited for over fifteen minutes while Slytherin after Slytherin passed him in pursuit of dinner in the Great Hall. Draco emerged some time later and beckoned Harry to come inside. Harry wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. This was crazy. This could be a trap, and Harry was willingly walking into it. How did he know whether or not a bunch of Slytherin students were waiting for him on the other side of the door, ready to hex him?

He followed Draco in, relieved to find no students remained in the dungeon.

"This way," called Draco, as they headed towards the boys dormitiories. Harry noticed Draco's usual cocky demeanor begin to diminish as they entered the dorm, meanwhile Draco nervously shuffled things around.

"Sorry abut the mess," he said.

_'Did Draco really just say _sorry_ to me?'_ Harry thought to himself.

He let his eyes wander around the room to distract himself from the butterflies that were gathering in his stomach. There were some Quidditch posters on the walls, plenty of things to represent 'Slytherin Pride', a photo of Draco and his mother on the bedside table, and loads of parchment strewn across Draco's desk.

"Did we have Potions homework?" Harry asked when a particular piece of parchment caught his eye.

"Ah, no," said Draco as he snatched it away. "Just trying to get ahead."

He put the parchment in a draw that automatically locked.

Draco turned around to face Harry now, his hand on the desk and looking obviously flustered. He swore he could feel sweat gathering on his brow.

"So, what did you want to discuss?" Draco asked, doing his best to be nonchalant.

"Well," said Harry cooly. "I'm not quite sure. Nothing in particular..."

Draco frowned. "_'Nothing in particular'_? I'm missing dinner for you! I could get into a lot of trouble for bringing a Gryffindor - especially you - up here."

"It feels good to break the rules sometimes though, doesn't it?" Harry asked as he moved closer, and placed his hand on Draco's.

"Would you like a drink?" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself.

Harry stepped back. "Sure," he answered.

Draco headed back to the commonroom.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Draco muttered to himself as he poured the drinks. "Just do it, don't flake out now!"

He took a deep breath and a swig of water before heading back to the dorm. He returned to find Harry sitting on his bed, looking towards the photograph of him and his mother.

Draco remembered that day in the photograph clearly. It was his birthday, and his father had taken the family to a fancy restaurant for dinner. He gave Draco a long speech about being a 'proper' man now that he was older, and because he'd found a female magazine in Draco's room that featured images of half-naked male Quidditch players. The photograph was taken after they'd eaten, at the from of the restaurant. Draco liked it because it reminded him of how he'd never be like his father, and he was proud of that. His mother looked just as unhappy as he did. She had snuck into his room later that night back at the Manor and told Draco she loved him no matter what, that he could be whoever he wanted to be.

"Listen, Draco, I think I ought to leave," said Harry, again doubting his coming here.

"Oh," said Draco, disappointed. "At least have your drink first?"

"Thanks," said Harry as drank the entire glass of water. He handed it back to Draco, who placed the now empty glass on the desk next to his own.

Draco sat on the bed and placed his hand over Harry's. Their eyes met. Harry placed his hand on Draco's neck, pulled his face closer to his own, and kissed him. Draco's hand was still on Harry's, his other found it's way to Harry's thigh.

Draco slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth. It was warm, moist, and tasted better than Draco had imagined. When Harry's tongue touched his, Draco's entire body tingled. He felt it everywhere.

Harry's mind had been filled with images of this situation all week. For days and days, he had imagined what kissing Draco Malfoy would be like - and now he was finding out. It surpassed his fantasies by a mile. He noticed that every now and then, Draco would gently suck on his lower lip before gently kissing them both, and then reverting back to ravishing Harry's mouth with his tongue. Harry was convinced his lips would be swollen tomorrow.

Draco gently pushed against Harry until he was laying on top of him. Harry's hands were desperately grasping Draco's hips. He could feel Draco's erection pushing against his leg through his pants, which only made his continue to grow.

Draco broke away from Harry's mouth to kiss his neck, and occassionaly gently bite Harry's earlobe. He worked his way down to Harry's collarbone while trying to unzip his pants. Harry realised what Draco was doing and began to do the same to Draco's pants. He could hardly wait, he was panting so hard...

Draco finally managed to get Harry's pants undone, and gently stroked him as they continued to kiss. He lifted Harry's shirt and kissed all the way down his torso, from his neck to the top of his underwear, where his hand still remained.

He stopped and looked up at Harry.

"You have to leave."

Harry sat up. "What? Why?" he asked.

"Shh..." said Draco. "Can you hear that, downstairs? What are they doing back here so soon?"

Harry quickly pulled his shirt down and pulled his pants up.

"How am I supposed to leave?" he asked. "I can't just walk out the front door!"

Draco rushed to the wall at the back of the room, tapped it with his wand and muttered "_Apertum_."

A doorway appeared to reveal a staircase leading upwards. Harry ran over.

"You can't tell anyone about this - it's a Slytherin secret," whispered Draco. "The door, I mean. But don't tell anyone what happened here either!"

Harry looked into Draco's silver-blue eyes, breifly kissing him again before ascending the staircase. The magical doorway disappeared behind him. He could hear some of the Slytherin boys enter the dorm room and Draco's voice slowly fading through the thick, stone wall.

He wondered if this staircase was on the Marauder's map as he began to realise exactly what had just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks were blissful. Harry and Draco met in secret whenever possible, and seized most of those opportunities to be physically intimate.

Draco's kisses were like Harry's drug. He craved them, and whenever he was lucky enough to recieve them, they couldn't quite satisfy his thirst. Harry and Draco had purposefully gotten detention together one night so that they could be alone. That was the night it went a step further. Draco gave Harry a blow job (something Harry had yet to experience with anyone). Harry could hardly control his climax. He was quite sure that wasn't the first time Draco had done such a thing.

After their first encounter, Harry told Hermione what happened, though he wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Regardless, she was polite about the situation. He never told Ron, though he no doubt knew that something was going on since Harry always seemed to be missing.

Harry met Hermione on a cold Friday night in the library to catch up on some studying. They were going to be alone for the first time in a while, because Ron was held back in Transfiguration for not completing his homework.

"I told him I'd help, but he's just too proud to accept it," said Hermione as they sat down at an empty table in the almost empty library. "Quite sparse tonight, don't you think?" she asked.

"Well, it_ is_ Friday night, Hermione," he replied. "Most students use it to relax instead of study."

She smiled and replied, "Not us."

She opened a few random books, rugged and torn at the edges (no doubt they had been in this library for a long time), and began working. Harry planned to do the same, but his mind was stuck on Draco, not homework. After a few minutes of this, Hermione looked up from her books with a curious look upon her face.

"Is your mind occupied with something _other_ than Wizarding History?" she asked.

Harry merely smiled in reply. He had been smiling much more lately.

"You can't let him distract you from more important things - like schoolwork," she said. "I see too many people our age go down that road."

Harry looked up. "Mmhmm," he mumbled.

"I was thinking, you know, about you and Malfoy," said Hermione as she lay down her quill and placed her hands together.

"Draco, you mean."

"Pardon?"

"His first name - the one you're meant to acknowledge him by - it's _Draco_, not _'Malfoy'_," said Harry bitterly.

"Yes..." replied Hermione. "_Draco_. I think his intentions with you may be..."

"May be what?" Harry inquired.

"Impure."

There was a tense silence. Hermione felt uncomfortable. She was forced to stare into Harry's eyes, which were usually warm and caring, but now were terribly cold. It was a stare she'd never experienced. Hermione had debated with herself about whether or not to tell Harry of her suspicions, and now that she'd begun, there was no turning back.

"What would you know?" asked Harry, sharply.

Hermione was a little taken aback, yet she'd been expecting this sort of reaction, with the potion and all. She had thought through (and even practised) exactly what she was going to say to Harry, but now her mind was blank and she was at a loss for words.

She bit her lip and looked down at the table.

"Harry, I didn't want to delve into this quite so quickly, but it seems like you won't listen unless I just come right out and say this."

She paused for a moment. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the words that were about to come out of her mouth, and neither too thrilled about Harry's expected reaction. She breathed deeply to calm herself.

"Harry, you remember what _Amortentia_ is, don't you?"

Harry stared into her eyes. "The love potion?" he asked. What did that have to do with anything?

"Yes. It has a very distinct scent - peppermint, to be exact."

"Thanks for the information."

"It's a scent I can smell on you."

Surely she couldn't be trying to say-?

"And those ingredients Snape said he was missing a few weeks back; ashwinder products, moonstone-"

"Hermione, I hardly-"

"The ingredients for _Amortentia_ include: Ashwinder eggs, powdered moonstone, rose thorns, peppermint, among _other_ things."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he needed to hear those exact words come out of her mouth to be sure.

"What exactly are you insinuating, Hermione?" he asked.

"I'm _saying_ that I believe Draco was the one who stole those ingredients to create a love potion to use on you. It's the only explanation, he would have had to keep giving you doses-"

"_'The only explanation'_?" Harry questioned. "You're wrong."

"Think about it logically, Harry..."

"You're mistaken, Hermione."

"I'm not-"

"How can you be sure?" Harry asked.

Hermione paused. "Because I am. I put the pieces together and this is what I was left with."

Harry shook his head. "The only reason you're saying such things is because you're jealous."

Hermione stopped speaking. She ignored the tears gathering in her eyes. Harry was being really harsh.

"I'm not..." she began. That was all she could seem to manage.

"You can only lust after Ron. That's why you're jealous; because I have love with someone who loves me, and all you have is lust with someone who is completely oblivious to your feelings."

That comment hit Hermione like a bludger.

Neither of them spoke. Hermione searched Harry's face, his eyes, for some sort of consilation. How could he have said something so harsh? A discomfort began to arise in Hermione's throat.

The tears began to fall, sliding down her face and landing on her books. Harry's face remained as stern and as cold as stone.

"Harry, why would you say such a thing?" she finally breathed.

He picked up his books and placed them in his bag.

"I could ask you the same," he responded.

Hermione frowned. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Harry. I'm trying to help you."

"Well, it's not working," he replied before gathering his books and leaving.

...

Harry headed back up to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione's words lingering in his mind.

_'Amortentia, amortentia ... Draco was the one ... the only explanation ... the only one. Think about it, Harry,'_ her voice whispered.

He stopped before he reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Hermione was wrong. He loved Draco, he knew he did. But was it for real? How could he be sure?

_'I'll prove her wrong,'_ he thought to himself. Yes, that's what he would do, he would prove it to her. He knew Draco was innocent, he just had to show that to Hermione.

Harry redirected himself back downstairs towards the dungeons, but a thought stopped him. He couldn't walk through the main door of the Slytherin's commonroom. He remembered the secret passage Draco had shown him the last time he had been in Slytherin's dorm.

He found the wall where it had released him last time, tapped it with his wand, and softly said "_Apertum._" All he could do was hope the dorm was empty as he descended the staircase, and that Hermione's suspicions were incorrect.

Harry could see the light coming from the other end of the passage below him at the end of the stairwell. He really should have brought his invisibility cloak with him. To Harry's relief, the room was deserted. They must've all been down in the commonroom. Harry walked over to Draco's desk and tried to open the draw where he saw Draco hide some parchment the first time he was here. It didn't budge.

"_Alohamora,_" he said to it.

Nothing.

"Open."

It stayed shut.

"Unlock."

Nothing.

He considered there might be a password.

Harry felt like an idiot doing this, but he touched his wand to the draw and said "_Harry Potter._"

It slowly slid open. Harry stood still for a moment, unsure whether he wanted to do this anymore.

But he was already here and the draw was open...

He took a deep breath and sat at the desk. Harry could see the parchment Draco had shoved in there a few weeks ago, last time he was here. There was also a page from a potions book that had been ripped out. Harry studied it.

The title had been blacked out.

_'Ingredients,'_ it said at the top. _'Ashwinder eggs' _followed._ 'Rose thorns. Moonstone. Peppermint.'_

It couldn't be...

Harry looked at the page from the potions book and forced himself to read it. This page must've been from the restricted section - love potions were banned at Hogwarts.

_'True love cannot be produced by artificial means... Obsession rather than affection.'_

_'Obsession'_ lingered in Harry's mind. Was he obsessed?

_'Will wear off... A single dose will last 24 hours... must constantly administer doses.'_

Hermione was right.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stood there for a few moments, trying to pull himself together. A love potion? _A fucking love potion_?

He moved to the end of Draco's bed and tried to align his thoughts.

Was everything he felt these past few weeks a complete lie? He should have known so.

He, The Chosen One, fraternizing with and fucking the enemy. Merlin, he had never thought of it like that before. Harry suddenly felt like he had awaken from a deep slumber; like he had snapped out of a spell. Or potion, rather.

His first thought was Hermione. He had treated her so badly and didn't trust her judgement.

_'I need to apologise to her,'_ he thought.

It would probably have to wait until tomorrow though, because she would most likely be in bed soon. And so would the Slytherin boys. Harry left the dorm and headed back to his own, his head still buzzing.

...

Harry crept into his bed as quietly as he could to avoid waking the others, but Ron had been waiting up for him.

"Harry?" Ron asked as Harry tried to slip under his bedsheets.

"Ron? Did I wake you?"

This was the first time they'd addressed eachother in weeks. The bitterness Harry felt towards Ron had faded, now.

"No, I was already awake. I was... waiting for you. Where have you been?"

"Do you really care?" asked Harry. He really did want to know.

"I do, honestly," Ron replied. "I'm sorry I've been such a tool."

Harry sighed and went to sit next to Ron at the foot of his bed. "You shouldn't be the one apolgising, I'm the one who should be. I'm the one who's sorry."

Ron didn't say anything.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I said I'm sorry. I'm sorry for mistreating you, for ignoring you, for being the way I was. I suppose I wasn't completely in control of my actions - but that shouldn't be an excuse."

"What do you mean _'in control_'?" asked Ron. He knotted his brows. "What did that git do to you?"

"He..." Harry hesitated. "Promise not to laugh?"

"Promise," replied Ron. "I wouldn't dare wake up Seamus by doing that, he'll kill me."

Harry took a deep breath. "He used a love potion on me - _Amortentia_. Can you believe that?"

Ron shrugged. "Actually, I can." Harry sent him a questioning look. "Hermione - she told me she suspected so a few days back. She was reading about it in the library."

"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Remind me to apologise to her, too."

Ron smiled, the first smile Harry saw grace his face in weeks.

"I'm so embarrassed," Harry admitted.

"Don't be," said Ron. "I must admit, mate, you looked bloody happy when you were with Malfoy these past few weeks."

..

In the morning, Harry found Hermione reading by the fireplace. She had her Gryffindor scarf on and a pile of books beside her. Not an unusual Satuday for Hermione. Harry stood beside her and awkwardly tried to start up a conversation. He picked up the book on the top of the pile.

"_'Muggle Contribution To Modern Magic.'_ Seems like a strange subject," he said.

Hermione glanced up, didn't take the bait, and went back to reading her book. Harry stood there for a few moments more until she looked up again.

"What is it?" she asked glumly.

Harry sighed, put the book back, and sat down. He fidgeted with his hands as he tried to think of what to say.

"Harry?"

"You were right, Hermione. You're always right."

Hermione desperately wanted to tell Harry to bugger off, but she couldn't. She could sense the sincerity and honesty in his voice that had not been there yesterday.

"Was I?" she inquired as she met Harry's eyes with her own. They seemed normal, now. She could see the fire flickering in their reflection.

"I found some parchment in his desk. Pages about _Amortentia_, with ingredients. Moonstone, peppermint, like you said."

Harry looked down again. He couldn't bear what he'd done to Hermione.

"I'm sorry," she admitted as she closed her book.

"No, no. I'm sorry," he replied as fast as he could. "I treated you like shit, Hermione. I said some things I didn't mean. I trusted Draco over you. What kind of a friend am I?"

"One that made a mistake," Hermione answered. She sighed and bit her lip to hold back the tears that began to gather in her eyes. "Oh, Harry," she cried as she latched her arms around his neck.

Harry almost fell over due to the force of her hug, but it felt good. He laughed to avoid crying himself.

"There was some truth to it, though," Hermione said as she let go of Harry. "Regarding your comments about Ron. It wasn't my motivation, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't entirely you know... untrue."

"He'll come around," Harry said, smiling, before Hermione jumped on him and began to hug him again.


	6. Chapter 6

"What are you going to do about it?" Ron asked that night at dinner.

Harry sat with his back to Slytherin's table for the first time in weeks. He couldn't bear the thought of looking at Draco right now.

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "What do you think I should do?"

"Don't ask us, he's _your_ boyfriend," Ron replied. Hermione tapped the back of her hand against his chest and sent him a look. "Ow! Okay, okay, I was joking."

She started to pick at her food with her fork, but not actually eating anything.

"You've got to say _something_," she finally pleaded. "He doesn't know that you know, yet. But remember - don't consume any food or drink he gives you, okay, Harry?"

...

"Good girl, Hedwig," Harry said as he placed the letter in her mouth.

He wrote to Draco that he wanted to meet in the Clock Tower Courtyard at 11pm. It was a risky operation on a weekend night (the other students stayed up later than usual), but it needed to be done. Hedwig returned five minutes later with a note in her beak.

"_See you there._  
><em>-Draco<em>" it read.

He musn't have noticed the parchment missing from his desk drawer.

It was still only quarter-past ten. Most of the Gryffindor's were still loud and rowdy downstairs in the commonroom. Harry lay on his bed, thinking about what he was going to say to Malfoy. Or how he was going to say it. Wait, why did it matter? He didn't care about hurting Malfoy's feelings (if he had any). After Malfoy doing something like _this_, why should Harry tip-toe around his feelings?

Harry had been trying to piece together the events of the last few weeks, but he could only remember fragments, like how you can only remember fragments of a dream after you wake up and try to recall it.

...A kiss, Draco's bed, that night they'd gotten detention together - what happened?

Oh, right. Harry remembered that Draco went down on him that night. They purposely got detention from McGonagall during Transfiguration so that they could be alone together. They began cleaning the chalkboards (without magic, as punishment) while McGonagall was in the room, but seized the opportunity to make the most of her abscence when she left.

"I'll be back in an hour," she had said.

Draco kissed Harry like he did that first time on his bed, and followed the same protocol - kissing down his neck, making his way down Harry's torso, pulling down his pants...

Harry awoke with a jolt and grabbed the clock beside him: 10.48, it said. Most of the boys were in bed. He didn't even realise he had fallen asleep, but he wished that what he had been thinking of was a dream instead of a memory. Harry rose from his bed, invisibility cloak in tow, and headed downstairs to the commonroom. Concealed from the few students still playing Wizard's Chess and exploding snap, he exited the portrait of the Fat Lady and headed for the Clock Tower Courtyard.

Draco was already there, leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, illuminated by the moonlight. _'Smug git,'_ Harry thought to himself, but took a moment to take this image of Draco in. Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco wasn't exactly 'ugly', he was actually quite an attractive guy. It was a shame that underneath his exterior qualities wasn't the most attractive personality and the mentality of a pure-bred Malfoy.

Harry removed his cloak as he approached, allowing Malfoy to see him.

"Draco," he called, keeping a stern look on his face.

"Harry," Draco replied as he moved closer. He stopped after a few steps and his smirk faded from his face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Harry paused and looked down. "Have you done your potions homework?" he asked.

Malfoy stifled a laugh. "Is that what I'm breaking curfew for, risking detention for?"

"I know you're fond of it," Harry replied. "Do you have it all?"

"Have what?" Draco asked, confused.

"Your potions homework."

"I suppose. Where else would it be?"

_'This is it,'_ Harry thought to himself as he reached for the inside pocket of his robes.

"Here," Harry said as he pulled the parchment and ripped-out potions textbook pages that he had taken from Draco's desk-drawer.

"What's that?" Draco asked.

"We haven't been studying love potions in class, so is it purely recreational?" Harry spat.

"What do you mean? Neither!" Draco replied exasperated.

"You're a _liar_," said Harry.

Draco couldn't seem to string a sentence together. And to Harry's surprise, neither could he. Draco's eyes fell from Harry's grip.

"Harry, listen-" he began after a moment's silence.

"-No, Malfoy, you listen," said Harry. The potion must have wore off because Harry couldn't feel anything other than hate and betrayal right now. "I know what you've been doing. I found these, Draco, in your desk-drawer. You're the one who stole the ingredients from Snape's cupboard."

Draco looked up, but couldn't meet Harry's eyes. "Let me explain," he said. His voice shook.

"You basically poisoned me! You put it in my Butterbeer, my antidote that day in class, and every fucking drink or piece of food you've given me since then!"

"I just wanted-"

"-What? What did you want?"

"I just wanted to see if there was anything there; if there was anything between us!" Draco finally was able to say. Harry was shocked to see a single tear drip from his cheek and onto the floor.

"Hate. There's hate," Harry replied.

"You'd never have done this otherwise," Draco explained. "We're default enemies, because of my parents-" His voice broke as he cried. "-because of things that are out of my control!"

Those last words hit Harry like a truck. Draco actually felt bad, he had feelings. He even seemed to have feelings for Harry.

Harry almost felt sorry for Draco, but he didn't trust him enough to let those feelings take place. He remained cold and distant.

"I'm... sorry," Draco muttered as he put his hand to his face.

This was different than what Harry had thought would happen. Why did this suddenly hurt so much? Why did Harry actually care? He shouldn't! All his previous feelings were lies! But suddenly, this... This felt real.

"Harry..."

Harry turned his face away. Maybe Draco was capable of geniunely apologising. Maybe he really did care. Maybe Harry shouldn't have done it like this. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He picked up his cloak to leave, not saying a word. What could he possibly say?

"Harry-"

"What?"

"I really am... sorry."

The anger had subsided. Harry didn't want to yell at Malfoy anymore, as he had initially wanted, nor rub it in his face that he had foiled him. He originally planned on throwing the parchment in Malfoy's face, and telling him that such a thing could never be because_ 'true love cannot be produced through artificial means.'_ Instead, he dropped them on the floor.

"Okay," he said, and began to walk away.

"Harry... Harry!" Malfoy called out.

But Harry didn't respond.


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry?"

He had been staring blankly at the fireplace in the commonroom, a million thoughts racing through his mind.

"You're not still thinking about it, are you?" Hermione continued.

He was. He was still thinking about Malfoy. He was trying his best to forget, sitting here and staring at the flames, but he couldn't.

Harry sighed and looked up at her. "Do you think it could have happened? Naturally, I mean."

Hermione sat beside him and took his hand in hers. What a difficult question to answer. "I don't know, Harry. Maybe it could have - but it's_ Malfoy_. His father is involved with_ You-Know-Who_."

"I know, Hermione. Believe me, I know." Harry had considered the whole Voldemort element to this before.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I suppose it could have happened," she went on. "But Malfoy being so typically himself didn't even consider being honest with you. Instead he went behind your back and lied. I'm not sure that's someone you want to be involved with, Harry."

Harry exhaled and continued to look into the mesmerizing flames. Did he ever consider being honest with Harry?

Harry hadn't spoken to Draco for almost a month after their confrontation, and he never really stopped thinking about him. It was a different sort of obsession, not the type Harry felt when under the influence of the love potion, but an obsession nonetheless. Harry was obsessing over possibilities. He kept thinking the possibility of things being different. Ron and Hermione did their best to not speak about the situation because they had seen the look on Harry's face when they did, followed by Harry staring out a window or into an unoccupied space for so long afterwards ... Wondering, pondering, contemplating what could have been had circumstances been different, including Malfoy's actions and decisions.

"I'm sorry," Hermione would say every now and again when she saw that look on Harry's face, then she'd shrug at Ron because neither of them knew what to say or do to help.

...

"Did I tell you he sent me a note?" Harry asked Hermione one night while studying in the library. It was a cold and still night, the darkness only broken by the dancing lights of the hovering candles around them. Ron had fallen asleep on his books. Harry was tired too, from Quidditch practice earlier that night as well as the exhaustion from his constant over-thinking about Malfoy.

Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy.

"I thought you hadn't spoken to him since that night," replied Hermione. "That was almost a month ago, right?"

"Right. And I haven't. But about a week ago, an owl came to my window delivering a piece of parchment. It was a ripped-up piece of the potions book page he had in his drawer that I gave back to him. At first I thought it was because he was angry, but I turned it over and on the back it said _'Forgive me?'_"

"And?" asked Hermione.

"And that's it."

"You didn't reply?"

"Merlin, no. Of course not."

"Oh."

There was a pause. "What?" asked Harry.

Hermione shrugged and pursed her lips. "I don't know, Harry," she said.

"Yes, you do." Harry said. He touched her hand. "Tell me?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, it's none of my business, but maybe you should have said _something_ back."

Harry frowned. "Like what? _'Yes I forgive you for poisoning and betraying me'_? I thought you of all people would be against such a thing."

Ron made himself more comfortable against his books and breathed heavily.

"Harry, what Malfoy did was wrong. But..."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "But?"

"But maybe you should speak to him; fix it, tie up all the loose ends... _Something_. You can't leave it undone like this. Look at the effect it's having on you." she said. "I'm only saying such things because I care. I'm just giving you advice, you don't have to take it or agree..."

Harry pondered this for a moment. He was still angry about what Malfoy did and at Malfoy in general. He had been avoiding him for weeks (in classes they shared, the Great Hall, hallways, staircases, courtyards, the Quidditch pitch) and it was becoming a nuisance. It was impacting so much of Harry's life, not to mention intruding his every waking thought. Soon it would probably infiltrate his dreams. All he wanted was to avoid dealing with the situation, but instead of ignoring it and going away, the situation had become more prevalent and bigger than it should be.

Malfoy had been stuck in Harry's mind everyday. Harry couldn't feel at ease anymore with this hanging over his head.

So maybe Hermione was right. Things were left undone, broken. Harry needed some closure for peace of mind.

That way, he could finally forget about Draco Malfoy.

"You're right," he said. "As always."

Hermione smiled. "I hope so."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry watched Draco descend the dark, dark stairs to the dungeons of the school. He hid behind a pillar, concealed by his invisibility cloak. He should say something; call out Draco's name, perhaps. That was the plan, anyway. It's one thing to plan and another to actually carry it out.

And Harry just couldn't.

"Why not?" asked Hermione when Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't know," replied Harry. "I just couldn't."

"But, Harry-" began Hermione.

"-I know, I know," he cut in. "But why is it my responsibility to say something first? He's the one who should come to me!"

Great. He was making excuses.

Hermione sighed and rested her chin on her hand. "You're both too scared to make a move," she said.

"I'm not scared, I just..."

"The words will come to you, Harry. Just say what's in your heart."

Harry nodded and said goodnight to her. He went to bed that night with his head heavy with thoughts of Draco.

...

Harry and the Gryffindor team spent the next afternoon practising as much as possible for the upcoming Quidditch game between themselves and Hufflepuff, but Harry was finding it hard to concentrate. He sat on his broom, staring into the distant hillside. Why couldn't he just talk to Malfoy? Was it really that big of a deal? Harry tried to convince himself that it wasn't, but the longer he postponed it, the harder it would become to initiate anything and _then_ it would become a big deal.

"Harry!" someone yelled, and Harry ducked just quick enough to avoid being hit by a rather nasty bludger.

"You better pay more attention during the actual game!" someone else yelled.

"Oi, calm down!" Ron said back, and flew over to Harry. "Why don't you go land and clear your head for a while?" he suggested.

Harry nodded and followed Ron's suggestion. He landed and made his way towards the storage shed in which the Quidditch gear was stored. Depending on the password, the door would open to reveal the according house's gear. "_Leonis_," he said, and the door swung open. He put his broom inside and shut the door.

"Harry?" a voice whispered from behind the shed.

Harry turned slowly, trying to avoid his teammates noticing who he was talking to.

"Draco? What are you doing here? This isn't a good time..."

"You don't seem busy."

"What do you want?" Harry asked impatiently, angry that Draco had pointed out Harry's absence from the training above them.

"I just want to talk."

Harry sighed and discretely made his way behind the shed where Draco was waiting. Draco nervously glanced over before averting his eyes.

"Go on then, talk," Harry said, pretending this was fine.

Draco played with the sleeve of his robe, revealing to Harry that he was just as nervous. "I hope no one sees us here," he said.

"You hope that no one will see us talking, so you approach me here, in a wide open space?"

Draco shrugged. "Would you prefer I approach you in the hall?"

Harry looked down. "No matter, I'm used to rumours floating around about me."

Draco kept his back against the shed, and slid down to sit on the floor, his knees hugged to his chest. Harry sat beside him.

"So," said Draco.

"So..." repeated Harry, as he fidgeted with his fingers. The words weren't coming, like how Hermione said they would. "Did you tell Snape it was you?" he asked.

Draco shook his head and smirked. "No," he replied.

"Will you?"

Draco shrugged. "Probably not."

Harry laughed and scratched his head. "He'll probably end up blaming me."

Draco smirked and continued to fidget with his sleeve. "I've been meaning to talk to you sooner," he admitted.

"Likewise," Harry agreed. It was a relief to get it out.

There was a pause.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

There was so much Draco felt like he needed to say, and it overwhelmed him. He tried his best to sum up his feelings.

"I know you don't believe me, but I really am... you know, sorry," he finally said.

Harry took a sharp breath. "No," he shook his head. "I... do believe you. At least _now_ I do, since I've had time to think about it."

"Can you... uh... forgive me?" Draco almost whispered.

Harry felt like those words were almost painful for Draco to say, and wondered if he had even ever said them to anyone else before.

Harry cleared his throat. "Ahem...Yeah... Yes."

Draco released a sigh of relief.

"Why did you do it though, Malfoy?"

And he drew that breath right back in. "I don't know," he said almost immediately.

"You don't?" Harry questioned. Draco was lying again.

Draco looked away. "Maybe because you'd never do it otherwise? Or take me seriously? Because I wanted to?"

Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder. "Are you asking me, or telling me?"

"Telling you."

"Then look at me when you do! Don't you know that avoiding eye contact is a sign of lying? You should have just been honest from the beginning."

"I couldn't."

"Yes you could've-"

"-_How?_ You should understand more than anyone why that would've been ridiculous!"

"And going behind my back is better? That's just the trouble with you Slytherin's. You think that being honest is a bad thing."

Draco stood up. "I didn't come over here to fight with you, Harry," he said sternly.

Harry stood up now too. Draco was looking off into the distance, but Harry forced him to turn and face him. "Then why?"

"To say sorry! Isn't that good enough?"

Suddenly Harry felt like the guilty one. He shook his head and released Draco's arm.

"I've been thinking about what I would have done. You know, if you just came right out and told me," he said after a silent moment.

"And?"

"And I think I would have considered it."

"Oh Merlin, please," Draco spat. "You would not have! You would've thought I was playing a trick of some sort, trying to decieve you, and then run away." Draco noticed the look on Harry's face. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I'm not sure I would have _run_," he laughed. "But I guess we'll never know."

"And now?" Draco asked after a pause.

"Now?" Harry ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know. There's no trust here," he said as he pointed between Malfoy and himself.

"Was there ever?"

"Probably not," Harry replied and shrugged.

Draco swallowed hard and nodded. He couldn't really blame Harry for feeling the way he did, could he?

"Lust... It drove me mad," Draco sighed. He turned to Harry.

Harry's eyes fell to Draco's lips. Kissing them would be dangerous and foolish. Instead, he put his hand to Draco's cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. Draco leaned in and placed a kiss on Harry's cheek. He hoped it would portray the message he was trying to send.

"See you 'round," said Harry.

"Yeah," said Draco as he smiled, before dropping his hand and leaving.

...

**There's 2 more chapters left! So stay tuned!**


	9. Chapter 9

Harry couldn't see anything in the pitch black. Both the doorways of the secret staircase were sealed, and he was waiting for Draco to open the lower one just like they'd planned.

A week after their conversation behind the Quidditch shed, Draco sent Harry a note by owl.

_'Let's work things out, please?_  
><em>-Draco.'<em> it had read.

It took Harry a few days to muster up the courage to send Draco a note back. All it said was _'Okay.'_ He wasn't sure of what else to add.

After a few more exchanged letters, the two decided that they would meet in Slytherin's dorm room to see where anything between them was heading. Harry was confident he knew Draco's hopes for the two of them, and he initially didn't reciprocate those hopes. Harry was afraid. Afraid that he should have ended things with Draco after their talk and left it as_ that_ instead of pursuing something like this. But after a few more days of thinking (and hardly concentrating in class) he had changed his mind and decided that pursuing things with Draco could be a good way to go.

"I think it's a step foward, Harry," Hermione had commented when Harry told her about his and Draco's planned meeting.

Ron had agreed. "I hope it works, mate," he said.

And so it had come to this.

"_Apertum_," Harry heard softly through the wall before the light began to flood the stairwell from the lower was there, waiting for him. He smiled when Harry entered his sight.

"Glad you could come," said Draco.

And Harry suddenly realised something.

Draco lied to and decieved him - but he wasn't being untruthful about _himself_. The Draco Harry was seeing now, the one he had come to know since they had started this whole thing, was the real and honest one. The one he had known previously, or thought he had since he had started at Hogwarts was mostly a lie. Harry was learning that some of that Draco was a façade, hiding this Draco that lurked beneath.

"I'm glad I decided to," replied Harry.

Draco embraced Harry and kissed him on the lips. Harry kissed back - his first kiss with Draco free from the love potion. Harry was surprised that it felt so right; that he didn't feel conflicted. It was obvious that they both wanted whatever it was between them to go down this road.

Draco placed his forehead on Harry's and breathed deeply.

"How long do we have?" Harry asked.

Draco rubbed Harry's ear and smiled. "About half an hour."

Harry smiled back.

They moved to Draco's bed, kissing all the while, and not as innocently as before. Both wanted to take advantage of this time they had to share with one another.

Draco stripped Harry of his shirt and began kissing his bare chest, collarbones, and stomach. Harry pulled off Draco's shirt too, and reflected Draco's passion and affection by kissing him in the same manner. The kissing grew more intense as Draco lay himself on top of Harry, running his hands over his body, taking the time to caress each rise and fall, and enjoying it as Harry shivered under his touch.

Before Harry realised, Draco had removed Harry's pants and was working on removing his underwear. Harry knew where this was going - the same place it had that time he and Draco had gotten detention together - and could hardly stand the wait. He wasn't afraid of having this with Draco anymore.

It happened as Harry had anticipated - Draco pleasuring him with his mouth and hands, bringing Harry to the brink of climax with every stroke and every touch before Draco finally allowed him to finish. While it was happening, Harry was reminded of the first time this had happened all those weeks ago. Memories of it flashed in his mind.

"You've got to teach me a thing or two," Harry said between pants when Draco was done.

"You'll be fine," replied Draco as he stroked Harry's ear.

And Harry believed so. He imitated Draco's moves and his techniques. He responded to each of Draco's moans, shudders and reactions of his touch, before bringing him to the relief of his climax. Harry was surprised at his comfort with Draco.

Still undressed, both were sitting up against Draco's headboard - Draco with his head on Harry's shoulder as Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair.

"You know what I don't understand about all this?" Harry asked.

"What?" replied Draco.

"Why the ruddy password to your desk drawer is _'Harry Potter.'_ I suspect my name comes up a lot in here while you and the other boys say horrible things about me. It must've clicked open a hundred times a day."

Draco laughed. "It only responded to my voice, so I did my best not to ever say your entire name. And besides, I've changed it since then."

Harry frowned. "But it opened when I said the password."

"A glitch in the spell, I suppose," concluded Draco.

Harry was still running his fingers through Draco's hair.

"What are we going to do?" Harry asked as he sighed. He feared this wasn't going to work like he had imagined. "We can't just sneak up here everytime they go to dinner. We'll get caught one day, and they'll wonder where we are all the time."

"We'll make it work," responded Draco as he threaded his fingers between Harry's on his free hand, but offering no solution to the problem. "I mean, we'll find a way, won't we?"

"Yeah," answered Harry, not totally convinced and fearing this time alone with Draco would be a rarity, or even a one time event. "We'll find a way."


	10. Chapter 10

Harry finally felt sure of his situation with Draco. His questions had been answered; his fears put to rest; and his worries were at ease. The _Amortentia_ incident was in the past.

He felt like his old self again, with a few new installments of new knowledge he'd gained. Throughout his ordeal, Harry had learnt a few lessons about trust, respect, friendship, and of course, love. Although, he was certain he didn't love Draco yet. The both of them understood that it would take a while to work them up to untainted love.

Draco had learned that perhaps he should practise being honest more often. Well, at least with Harry. He couldn't change his whole personality, it just wasn't in his nature to be honest with everyone, only if it was for a cause that he was truly passionate about. He had come to realise that his second chance with Harry was a lucky one, and that he should take caution in not screwing it up as he initially had.

Draco had returned to his usual taunting of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindors in public to keep up appearances, and Harry, had reciprocated the same animosity towards the Slytherins.

To keep their affair private, Draco and Harry had scheduled times that they would meet to be alone in deserted areas of the school where they wouldn't be caught or disturbed. They gave their usual excuse of having to practise their snitch-catching skills for upcoming Quiddicth matches in order to elude any suspicion. And because each of the houses were quite competitive and devoted to their houses pride, no questions were asked.

"_Go on, Harry! Your skills are ten times better than Draco's!_" and "_I know we're gonna beat 'em with all this extra practise you've been getting!_" were common phrases Harry would hear each time he announced that he was off to practise. Harry would laugh to himself each time he left because, well, those comments could be taken both ways.

Hermione and Ron were each ecstatic for Harry and Draco's continuing relationship. Their friendship was restored, and Harry even offered to speak to Ron for Hermione in order to reveal her true emotions toward him, but Hermione declined. She said that things would happen in their own time and that if there was hope for he and Draco, she was sure there'd be hope for her and Ron.

Harry was on his way to his afternoon class with Ron, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus, each of them laughing at Dean reciting the events of Seamus' faulty concoction in yesterday's Potions class. Needless to say, Snape wasn't impressed. Nor was he impressed with the lack of any confession from a student admitting to stealing his property from his private store cupboard. He punished the entire class, instead, and Harry wondered if Snape was trying to figure out which of his students was brewing a love potion. He bet he'd never suspect Draco creating once to use on, of all people, Harry Potter. He never turned Draco in.

As the Gryffindors passed Draco and his Slytherin friends in the hall, Harry sent Draco a small smile while the others were still laughing, and Draco sent a smile back. Harry averted his gaze after a moment to avoid attracting unwanted attention from other students. Draco mimicked, but they continued to smile to themselves.

It was a secret that only Harry and Draco could smile about.

...

**THE END!**

**Thankyou so much for reading!**


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